Captured and Claimed By the Four Princes.

Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Aurora’s POV

Silence.

The witch’s words hung in the air like a blade. If she dies, so do they.

No one moved. No one breathed. Even the crowd that had been howling for my blood was frozen, eyes darting between me, the Princes, and the strange woman who had stepped forward like she owned the entire square.

The Elders shifted uneasily on their platform, their crimson and gold robes suddenly looking less like symbols of power and more like flimsy costumes.

"This is nonsense," one of them barked, his voice sharp and brittle. "End this farce!"

But the four Princes weren’t listening. They were still hunched, clutching their chests, their eyes locked on me with the same mixture of pain and bewilderment. Ressler’s knuckles were white around the hilt of his sword. Daemon’s smirk was gone, replaced with something rawer. Jessiel’s icy façade had shattered, and even Aregon’s silent strength trembled as though barely holding together.

The witch elder—Katarina, someone in the crowd whispered—lifted a hand, and the noise died instantly. She didn’t shout, didn’t threaten. Power just radiated from her, the kind of power you didn’t question.

"Silence," she commanded.

The square obeyed.

Her eyes, silver and sharp as blades, landed on me. I felt my spine stiffen, but I couldn’t look away.

"Bring her here," she ordered.

The guards hesitated, glancing at the Elders.

"I said," Katarina’s voice cut like steel, "bring her to me."

They moved. I was dragged forward, my chains clinking against the stone. My knees nearly buckled, but I forced myself upright. The pendant at my chest burned hotter with every step I took.

Katarina reached me and extended a long, pale finger. Her nail, black as ink, brushed the glowing stone. My breath hitched.

The relic pulsed. Once. Twice. Then a steady rhythm, like a heartbeat.

The Princes groaned in unison, doubling over. The crowd gasped.

"It reacts to her," Katarina murmured, almost to herself. "It is seeking completion." Then she raised her hand high. Strange symbols flickered into existence, floating around her palm like glowing runes of fire.

"The truth ritual," someone whispered in horror.

Chains fell away from my wrists as though they’d never been locked. My skin stung where they had been, but I barely noticed.

"Stand," Katarina said. "With them. The binding requires proximity."

I stumbled, blinking. "With… who?"

Her chin jerked toward the Princes.

My pulse raced. I wanted to protest, to argue, but the relic tugged at me, pulling me toward them like a magnet. My feet obeyed before my head could. I stood between them, Ressler to my right, Daemon smirking faintly to my left despite the sweat dripping down his temple, Jessiel stiff as a statue, and Aregon looming silently behind.

I didn’t belong here. And yet… I did.

Katarina raised both hands now, her voice dropping into a low chant. The runes above her spread outward, circling all of us.

The ground beneath my feet hummed. Lines carved themselves into the stone—circles within circles, symbols I didn’t understand glowing as though the earth itself had been waiting for this.

My skin tingled. Heat crawled up my arms.

Then—marks appeared.

Thin, glowing sigils burned onto my skin just above my wrist, glowing like molten silver. I gasped and jerked my arm back, but the marks only flared brighter.

Around me, the Princes did the same. Each of them stared at their own skin as identical symbols etched themselves into their flesh.

The crowd erupted in noise.

"Marks!"

"Look—they’re the same!"

"What does it mean?"

I stared at my wrist, then at Ressler’s, then Daemon’s. Jessiel turned his palm to show his. Aregon simply growled low, the sound vibrating in his chest.

They were identical. Exactly the same mark.

"No," I whispered. "No, no, no—"

Katarina’s chant ended. Her eyes glowed brighter than the pendant itself. She lowered her hands slowly, letting the silence stretch before she finally spoke.

"They are bound," she declared.

The words slammed through the square like thunder.

"Bound?" one Elder sputtered, face red with fury. "Explain yourself, witch! This cannot stand!"

Katarina didn’t flinch. "This is a tether older than your Council. The pendant is not a trinket. It is the Relic of Eternity. It chooses, not you. And it has chosen her."

I shook my head violently. "Chosen? No—no, I didn’t—I was trying to escape you all! I would never choose this!"

Ressler’s voice cut in, sharp and furious, his gaze pinned to his wrist. "What the hell are you saying? Are you telling me this... this human is my lifeline now?"

Daemon laughed, though the sound was strained and edged with hysteria. "She means we’re stuck with the thief. Well, that’s just fantastic."

Jessiel’s glare shifted between me and the mark on his skin, his jaw tight. "You knew this ritual would reveal a curse, Katarina. You should have been stopped," he clipped, his voice tight with suspicion.

Aregon finally muttered, his deep voice gravelly. "Impossible. This is witchcraft."

Katarina ignored them all. Her gaze pinned me. "If she dies, you die. If she suffers, you suffer. Her fate is yours now. This is not a mere bond. This is binding. A shared life-thread."

The crowd gasped again, voices rising in disbelief.

The Elders stood, robes swirling as they argued amongst themselves. "This cannot be allowed!" "Break it!" "There must be a way!"

"There is no breaking it," Katarina snapped, her tone like ice. "You kill her, you kill your heirs. Your Dominion crumbles. The bond is a mirror: kill one, and all five cease to exist."

My stomach dropped. The air felt too heavy, my lungs too small.

"I—" My voice broke. I tried again, stronger this time. "I never asked for this! Take it back! Take the mark away!"

All four Princes turned toward me, their expressions different but equally intense—Ressler’s fury, Daemon’s intrigue, Jessiel’s suspicion, Aregon’s quiet restraint.

And beneath it all… I felt them. Not just their stares. Their emotions, trickling into me like water seeping through cracks. Anger. Confusion. Pain. And something else I couldn’t name—a sudden, deep-seated sense of possession.

The pendant pulsed against my chest in time with my heart.

Katarina’s voice rose one final time, silencing the chaos.

"Understand this, Elders. Understand this, Princes. This girl and you four are one. You tried to murder the tether that holds your lives. Your greatest weapon is now your greatest threat. Protect her, and perhaps you survive. Harm her, and you are undone."

Her words hung like a curse, heavy and unshakable.

The crowd began to murmur again, voices rippling in waves. Some sounded awed, others terrified. The Elders whispered furiously, their authority slipping by the second.

But I barely heard them.

Because the truth had just sunk in.

My wrists burned with the glowing mark. The pendant thrummed against my chest. And four pairs of eyes bored into me, mirroring the same horrified realization.

We were bound.

Me. And them.

Forever.

As I still struggled to come to terms with that, an elder lifted a trembling hand before he pointed a slender finger to my hunched figure.

“Let's kill her before the bond runs too deep…”

My heart sank as every gaze whipped to meet mine.

For the first time in my life, I was scared of death.

A dozen swords hissed as they were unsheathed.

My eyes widened with terror. “No!”. And thenㅡ Darkness.